


Evil Author Day

by Lightning_Skies



Category: Blade (Movie Series), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Wolf (TV), The Crow (1994), Underworld (Movies), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Evil Author Day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning_Skies/pseuds/Lightning_Skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil Author Day (Feb 15th) was started 5 years ago and is an opportunity for authors to post tantalizing bits of ongoing and incomplete projects, to tempt and entice their readers but with the ever present danger that the stories may never be completed. They are the ultimate cliffhangers... Hence the 'EVIL'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Pure Imagination' Teen Wolf/Willy Wonka AU ('15)

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a gimme. It is fully written so you don't have to stress over whether or not I'll finish it. I've been teasing enough already, having been promising people since May 2013 that I'd write it. 'Pure Imagination' is complete at ~24k and will start posting in 4 days (Feb 19th) for the Sterek Big Bang

"Stiles," He looked up to see his Dad leaning on his bedroom doorjamb, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief at the words about to come out of his mouth, "I just got off the phone with the school superintendent. Are you, or are you not, spending your afternoons dealing chocolate out of your trunk in the junior high parking lot like some kind of mafia wise guy?"

"Dealing is such a harsh word." Stiles hedged with a really terrible Jersey accent. "I prefer to think of it as providing a service, fulfilling a need, as it were."

"I thank god every day that you weren't born in an earlier era. Al Capone, you are not." His Dad squinted at his position on the ground in amusement, "Keep in mind that you are talking to an experienced and observant cop and you are currently pinned to the floor with several large, well labelled boxes of your 'product'."

"There may have been some transactions between friends."

"You don't HAVE any friends at the junior high."

"Nothing illegal is happening." Stiles protested, shoving at the boxes to unbury himself. He stacked them haphazardly in a dangerous lean and they immediately toppled over the other way, tumbling across his bed. "I bought them all fair and square, nothing fell off the back of a truck or anything. They just buy more, since the high-schoolers all have cars and credit cards and can get their own."

"You're teaching them to literally take candy from strangers." The Sheriff scolded in a disappointed tone, "I know you really want a Golden Ticket, but this isn't the way to go about it. This kind of thing?" he gestured to the open candy on the desk and the bottle of glue. "This is exactly what I give a school speech on every fall at the elementary school; the risk of candy that has been tampered with."

"I… hadn't thought of that." Stiles admitted, his defensive stance deflated and he sank into his rolling chair and chewed on his lip. "I didn't mean any harm."

His Dad came over to hug him and scrub at his hair comfortingly. "I know kid. You just act without thinking sometimes."

"Thanks, Dad." He mumbled into his father's chest. "M'sorry."

"It's okay, but I'm still shutting down your whole operation and taking a cut, Mr. Wiseguy." The Sheriff grabbed a Hale Bar from the open box on the desk and waved the purple and green package in Stiles' face, ignoring the indignant choking noises emitting from his objecting son. "The first rule of the mafia is greasing the pigs with bribes so's ya don't get pinched."

Stiles' face twisted up in disgust at his Dad's terrible imitation. "You are SO not cool. I vote you should never try that accent again."

"Agreed." His dad said easily, "So long as you never try this again." He gestured to the boxes stacked on every surface of Stiles' room.

"What am I going to DO with them all." Stiles whined.

"Not my department."

* * *

 "… and it's his lucky day." Derek remarked in a calm tone. "That particular tunnel doesn't lead to the top of the waterfall. We're the only factory in the world that mixes it's chocolate by waterfall, you know."  
  
No one was sure how to respond to that.  
  
"At least the conching process takes place upstream." Derek continued completely oblivious to the mood of the situation. "Wouldn't want him ground down into silky smooth chocolate, now would we. He'd taste awful. At least a whole body is easier to dredge out of the river than little bits of one."  
  
Stiles couldn’t hide his tiny smirk and nodded his agreement when Derek glanced at him. At least he wasn’t the only one with a morbid sense of humor and healthy sense of schadenfreude. The corner of Derek’s lips quirked up at Stiles’ commiserating look.  
  
"You don't understand." Mr. Whittemore whined, "Jackson is Captain of the swim team. He would never just drown."  
  
"A smart swimmer doesn't fight the current, he cuts across it to reach the bank. I'm sure he's washed up downstream." The Sheriff comforted. "We'll go get him." He guided Mr. Whittemore away down the shoreline. A narrow stone walkway edged the river on each side, just wide enough for them to walk single file. "Stay here," he admonished everyone before a turn in the tunnel forced him out of sight.  
  
A grinding noise made the whole group jump. Derek had returned to the wall and pulled a bone from it’s niche. Stiles noticed that it was apparently a secret handle, because it trailed a rusty old chain as Derek pulled it as hard as he could. His shoulder muscles flexed deliciously beneath his jacket as the chain begrudgingly moved inch by inch. A large section of the wall across the river rumbled and sank into the molten chocolate, revealing an alcove with a creepy looking gondola. A human sized and anatomically correct sugar skeleton lurched to its feet and grabbed a candy striped pole. It gently poled over to the shore in front of the stunned group.  
  
Derek gracefully hopped in and took a seat, he looked up at the rest of them expectantly. "Staying or going?"  
  
Stiles considered for a moment, looking between where his Dad had disappeared and the open bench next to Derek. His decision was made quickly and he jumped down into the boat, taking the seat right next to the candy maker. Derek smelled like hazelnut coffee with plenty of french vanilla cream. Even just smelling it made Stiles feel warm.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more up to date information about what I'm up to, or if you want to message me, I just set up a [Facebook page](https://www.facebook.com/Lightningskies) or you can always visit me on [my Tumblr](https://monitorzombie.tumblr.com)


	2. 'We Three Kings' - Blade:Trinity/Underworld ('15)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'We Three Kings' is half complete at ~10k, for the Small Fandoms Bang and won't be posted until the Bang is over on March 27th. It's a fusion of Blade:Trinity and Underworld, replacing the character of Michael Corvin with Hannibal King.
> 
> Before he went to sleep, Drake fed his blood to his servants and the power in his blood eventually created the Corvinus strand. Several thousand years later he wakes up to find that he's accidentally sired an entire race of vampires, werewolves and Lycans.
> 
> Drake/Hannibal/Lucien

“Tell me about Hannibal King.”

Asher jumped and whirled on the heel of his custom fit Prada spazzolato penny loafers, his gaze searching the dark corners of his office. He finally spotted Drake in the deepest shadows, watching him expectantly, his creepy animalistic pupils blown wide again. Asher couldn't help but be worried about whatever had caught the ancient demon's attention and caused the intent focus in his eyes. His mind caught up with what Drake had just asked and he smirked at the Hell that was about to rain down on that smug son of a bitch, King.

"Hannibal was one of Danica's favorite toys, and that’s saying something considering she was always the type to behead her Barbies. She picked him up the same place she found her obsession with you. Hannibal belonged to Deacon Frost, a vampire who researched the ancient myths so thoroughly that he managed to find and dig you and your city up. It took him something like 8 excavation digs and a century to find what he wanted in the sand, but he was one hell of a fixated and unrelenting bastard. Danica considered him a visionary and he was probably the only man that she has ever admired. In a twisted way, I think she was in love with him, her dark champion of the fuckheads.”

Asher grimaced at the thought of Frost, he’d always hated the psycho. Deacon Frost was the same tangled ball of bugnuts that Danica was, without any of the family loyalty. He pulled down the whiskey decanter from his bookshelf. This conversation needed a drink.

“Frost was even worse than Dan, he was obsessed with summoning your daddy, the great and powerful La Magra. Thought if he could translate the right recipe from this ancient vampire bible he found in one of your temples, he could bake himself up a homecooked god. La Magra’s power combined with his body and mind. Reports are sketchy about what really went down, but every vampire on earth felt whatever mystical bullshit happened that night.”

Asher left a glass with a few fingers of whiskey on the small table nearest Drake’s elbow and retreated behind his desk with a slightly pinched look as he realized he’d just served his favorite 30-year-old single malt to a man who had gone to sleep before anyone had even dreamt up the process of alcohol distillation. He splashed an extra finger’s worth into his glass at the thought.

“He succeeded.” Drake said simply, lifting the glass and sniffing it. “For a brief moment La Magra walked this earth. I recognized its power.”

“That is the most terrifying fucking thing I have ever heard.” Asher toasted the air sardonically and tugged on the knot of his tie in agitation as he gulped at his whiskey in a vulgar way. It’s not like Drake would know he wasn’t properly savoring the liquor. “You’re bad enough. Immortality isn’t worth having to deal with Gods. That shit is way above my paygrade.”

“Indeed.”

Shored up by the warmth of the alcohol, Asher continued, “So anyway, Frost spent most of the 20th century digging up your city and looting your temples, until he found his legendary vampire bible and then spent years trying to translate it. You, he left to rot, he apparently didn't have any use for the Earthborn son of a god when he was aiming to become the big kahuna himself.”

“It didn't exactly work out well for him. Supposedly, he actually managed to translate the fucking book, built the temple to it's exact specifications and even hand crafted the main ingredient, a hybrid child, born in the same moment that its mother was turned. Frost created Blade. Brilliant fucking move on his part.”

“The bouncing baby boy turned around and slaughtered what was left of House Erebus after Frost fed their pure-blooded leaders to La Magra. This left an opening on the council for a new house to rise. That's where Talos came in. It's now our job to clean up the clusterfuck that Frost created and put down his little pet project. Danica got it in her head that it was a brilliant idea to continue Frost’s work, in memorandum or some shit. Hannibal was just another of Frost's belongings that Dan picked up when we inherited his estate and the remains of his house.” Asher sculled the rest of his drink, relishing in the slight thrill of defying centuries of drinking traditions and mishandling such an expensive liquor. He’d played at being high class with Dan for so long that he rarely indulged his whims to tear down and defile the tokens of affluence the way he used to. He’d been playing in the pure-blood’s sandbox for too long.

“Frost kept him close, something to do with the possibility that his blood would be needed in the ritual. I don’t know. I never read the notes. The only reason King survived was because he wasn’t even there, he spent the whole time chained to Frost’s bed, but Dan is convinced that Hannibal is special somehow. She just can’t figure out how. I guess that secret died with Frost. I never saw anything special about him, just another suck head blood slut that was too stubborn to be worth the trouble. We had to drug him and starve him near to death to keep him obedient. It really chaps Dan’s ass that whatever King knows about La Magra or Frost’s research, he never spoke a word about it no matter how she tried to break him. If he wasn’t such a little shithead, I’d almost admire his balls.”

"Starvation and abuse may earn obedience, but it will never earn loyalty."

"You're telling me. King played the obedient pet for just long enough to get his hands on a weapon, turns out he had been some kind of hotshot private eye back in the days before Frost got his hands on him. He clearly knew his way around a gun and a knife. He waited until those goddamn hunters, the Nightstalkers or whatever the fuck they call themselves, attacked one of our clubs and got himself lost in the scuffle. They managed to whip up some kind of cure for him. Funny thing was that, no matter what they tried, the cure only ever worked on him. Some of the stories I’ve heard though, the cure let him walk in the sun, but I’m not sure it turned him fully human again. No one has that much luck in a fight."

"Hannibal King used to be a vampire?" Drake demanded, like that was the most unbelievable part of what Asher had said to him.

"You should have seen it, he was magnificent, the vicious little fuck. He refused to hunt or bite anyone on his own, but starve him for long enough and he'd tear right into whatever you put in front of him."

Drake had much to think about. If what Asher said was true then there really was a connection between himself and the hunter. This Deacon Frost had seen it as well. He had much to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more up to date information about what I'm up to, or if you want to message me, I just set up a [Facebook page](https://www.facebook.com/Lightningskies) or you can always visit me on [my Tumblr](https://monitorzombie.tumblr.com)


	3. 'Dead Red Rising' - Sequel to 'Snuff Film Hero' ('15)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been promising this one forever.. and its coming eventually I promise. 
> 
> This is the opening scene to 'Dead Red Rising', the sequel to my Crow!Stiles fic, 'Snuff Film Hero'

“I look like a penguin.” Isaac complained, watching himself tug at his stiff collar in the mirror. “Or a waiter.” He pulled down the cuffs of his shirt where they had ridden up beyond the blazer’s sleeve. “A penguin waiter. Going to his first junior high semi-formal.”

 

:: It’s not that bad :: He could almost hear what Stiles’ response would be in his head. :: It’s very Bond, Isaac Bond. I’d hit that ::

 

“You’re not exactly a paragon of good taste though.” Isaac muttered. “Not to mention you always reek of sexual frustration.”

 

:: I think Lydia would probably tell you different. Not about the frustration bit, because that’s kinda true, but about my taste. I have fantastic taste. You should try it… with your tongue ::

 

“Like I said, you’re desperate.”

 

:: Painfully sad attempts at seduction aside. You do actually clean up nice, Lahey :: Erica chipped in. :: Now you just have to learn to strut your stuff. Anything can look frumpy if you wear it like it’s frumpy. Tell him he looks nice, Boyd ::

 

:: You look good :: Came the obedient response, but Isaac knew that although Boyd seemed like a pushover, he never did or said anything he didn’t want to.

 

“Thanks.”

 

:: See? :: Erica crowed :: You’ll be the belle of the ball ::

 

:: Your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard :: Stiles quipped. :: I still can’t believe Grumpwolf McEyebrows actually brought you suit shopping. He may actually have a heart under all that sad puppy angst and leather. Sometimes I could swear that I can almost hear the Alanis playing in the background. ‘This alpha wolf has been living in a burned out husk of a building and for the donation of just a dollar a day you can help provide him with the leather jackets and Scooby snacks he needs to survive in the wilds of Beacon Hills. Call now and we’ll send you a free 12 Months of Mayhem Calendar’ ::

 

Isaac snorted with laughter. “Imagine him glaring up at you from a mousepad.”

 

:: Imagine the motivational posters :: Erica cackled.

 

:: There are plenty of other fish in the sea, but you’re in the woods and you’re a wolf :: Boyd deadpanned and there was dead silence for a moment before they all cracked up.

 

:: There is no ‘I’ in pack ::

 

::Be a werewolf, not a failwolf::

 

“First rule of wolf pack; don’t talk about wolf pack.”

 

::Never growl never::

 

:: If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a hunter ::

 

The phantom sound of others’ laughter slowly faded away as Isaac’s smile faltered and fell from his face. Make-believe was for children and imagining they were alive would never be the same as having them here.

 

But they weren’t here. They were dead and he wasn’t dressed up to go to a ball or a dance or any other kind of party, he was dressed up to attend Stiles’ funeral. Isaac shuddered as he looked around the smoke damaged room. He had moved in with Derek, needing to be close to his Alpha, to make sure that the older man wouldn’t disappear on him like his packmates had. He gently opened the top drawer of a battered bureau he had found abandoned on a curb and looked down at the trio of feathers inside.

 

He ran his finger over each of them in turn as his eyes watered. “I miss you.”

 

He pressed a kiss to his fingertips and caressed the largest feather, thinking of a razor sharp mind looking out through laughing brown eyes. He tried to remember Stiles as he was when he was alive, passionately threatening to skin him if he hurt Lydia, rather than the sad broken spirit he had become. Supernatural strength and ability wasn’t a gift to Stiles, it was a pathetic attempt by the universe to right a wrong and it was too little, too late.

 

“Well, that’s just not healthy. They say talking to yourself is a sign of insanity.” Isaac jumped as Peter spoke from where he was leaning against the wall just outside his door.

 

“We can’t all become spree killers and murder our problems.” Isaac quickly shut the drawer, hiding away the feathers but the older man's eyes lingered.

 

“No, I don’t suppose that would be a good habit to get into.” Peter seemed to be making a concentrated effort to be less creepy lately, but it typically involved playing up the villainy to elevate it from legitimate concern to an inside joke. Ha-ha, remember that time I snapped and murdered a bunch of people. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge, fun times.

 

Isaac still wasn’t sure if that was because being comatose for six years put a damper on his social skills or because he legitimately felt no shame about his revenge and was just trying to get Derek and Isaac to see the lighter side of it. Not that there was one. “Did you need something?”

 

“Just came to offer a bit of amoral support. Be a shoulder to cry on.”

 

“I think I might strain something stooping that low.”

  
“Ooh, a double entendre. You may not be unarmed in a battle of wits after all.” Peter visibly perked up at his sass. Isaac hadn’t really been a part of the whole evil Alpha saga, so he found it much easier to make nice with the older wolf, pandering to his need for verbal interaction. He knew that Derek trusted Stiles’ psychic judgment on his uncle but he also had a LOT more emotional baggage to work through. They were a broken little pack and progress was slow, but he thought things seemed a bit better than they had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more up to date information about what I'm up to, or if you want to message me, I just set up a [Facebook page](https://www.facebook.com/Lightningskies) or you can always visit me on [my Tumblr](https://monitorzombie.tumblr.com)


	4. 'Time is a Thief' - YJ/TT/BtVS ('15)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Time is a Thief' is an ongoing epic length project in perpetuity written in small blurbs for a weekly prompt over at the Taming the Muse community on LJ. I merged a TON of different DC storylines into one long 5 year timeline for this fic... and the first 26k only cover 2 months of that timeline, I plan to start posting the fic when I complete a full story arc.
> 
> The major fandoms of the fic are the Young Justice and Teen Titans cartoons crossed over with Buffy the Vampire Slayer in an AU where Xander Harris becomes Red X.
> 
> The main pairing is Dick Grayson/Xander, but because it takes place over such a long period of time there will be other pairings. I hope to work in some hot one night stands with Slade Wilson for both of them b/c he was originally going to be permanently paired with one or both of them but it didn't work out so well with the plot that's developing.
> 
> I have added characters, events and other bits and pieces from Batman V1, Teen Titans V1, New Titans, Nightwing V2, Young Justice V1/2, Batman Beyond and Deathstroke comics, the YJ:Legacy Game, and the Justice League/Justice League Unlimited, Batman Beyond cartoons.

Jinx held her peace and waited until the 'Grand Mage' was sketching out a diagram in flashy holographic magic against the wall with his back to the class before she leaned over to hiss at him, "What the hell are you doing here?"

 

He grinned at her in amusement, "I am a student of the HIVE academy, where else would I be?"

 

"I thought you said that you didn't have any powers."

 

He dropped his grin, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their hissed conversation, "Everyone is capable of magic."

 

"Not enough to pass this class."

 

He noncommittally hummed his agreement. "How did you know it was me?"

 

"I recognized the 'amused at your pain and humiliation' look in your eyes from last night." She drawled flatly. "I'm not usually put in a position to see that look and it's only been a few hours since we last saw each other. It wasn't that hard."

 

The instructor turned around again and they were forced to break off their conversation. Xander felt her penetrating stare burning into the side of his head for the rest of the period and was mildly surprised that Jinx rushed out the second class was over. He packed up his things slowly to avoid the crush of students exiting and sauntered out in his own time. He wasn't surprised at all to be dragged into a side corridor almost immediately. He could have snapped her wrist or thrown her, but he was curious what she would say.

 

"What do you want?" She demanded, pink hexfire flickering over her hand.

 

"I was about to ask you the same thing. I'm not the one dragging their peers into dark corridors. People might think we're doing unsavory things back here."

 

"We're villains. Everything we do is unsavory."

 

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. I'm not a villain. I'm a thief."

 

"They're the same thing!" Jinx cried, exasperated.

 

"Not by half." He was getting tired of explaining this again and again. There was a very clear division in his mind. He didn't know why it was so difficult for others to grasp. It never occurred to him that his view of morality was unique to himself and the whole hero/villain dichotomy was seen differently by others. Then again most of the costumed set probably hadn't read as many comics as he had since they played right into all the worst tropes. With great power, and all that.

 

It was unbelievable, but most people seemed to believe that Heroes were always good and Villains were always bad. Angel/Angelus had proven otherwise. No one could be trusted to always act one way or the other. People were more complicated than that. Maybe he needed to draw a graph to carry around for when he was inevitably asked this again. A Kinsey Scale of Morality. "Criminal, yes. Villain, no."

 

Jinx stared at him incredulously, "Why are you even in this school then? If you have no powers and you don't want to be a villain."

 

"People without powers aren't powerless." Quicker than she could follow, he physically overpowered her and had her arms restrained safely pointed away from him. He trapped her against the wall until she stopped struggling, "There are plenty of useful classes in this school that aren't 'Theory of Mayhem' or 'Death Threat Composition'. Heroes and cops don't care what your motivation is if you're on the wrong side of the law. I'm a survivor. I will do whatever it takes to thrive in ANY situation but just because I'm out for myself and society categorizes me as a villain, doesn't mean I have to accept or live up to the title."

 

"Train me and I'll teach you." She gasped, giving him pause.

 

"What?"

 

"You want to learn magic. I'm much better than that sorry excuse for a mage." He let her go and let her turn around to look him in the eye, backing away warily in case she started throwing magic at him. "You were right about my physical skills though. I've never been any good, it's why they teamed me up with Mammoth. He can take care of pretty much anyone we encounter. Teach me to move and fight like you do and I'll teach you to use whatever magic you have."

 

"Why should I?"

 

She grinned viciously, "Because otherwise I'll tell the whole school that you have no powers. How long do you think you can last with multiple squads of villains gunning for you?"

 

He floundered. He had started a file on her but, because he had been so detached from the student body and it's members, the file was incomplete. The only embarrassing or damaging thing he knew about her was the failure against the Titans. The whole school already knew about that, so blackmailing her with it was impossible. He was stuck. He had nothing to hold over her and she was ready to expose him. She had no reason not to, with her recent humiliation she was hitting rock bottom. No matter how quickly she recovered, at this moment she had nothing to lose.

 

Jinx knew that she'd won and stared him down, waiting for his submission to her will. In that moment she reminded him of all the best bits of Queen C and Willow's resolve face and the steely look Buffy got in her eye that even Giles knew not to question. Finally, he ground out a gruff, "Fine"

 

"Great!" She pecked him on the cheek with exaggerated friendliness. "Don't look so sour, I'll go easy on you."

  
He watched her flounce off with her big goth boots clunking down the hall. They would be the first to go if she wanted any chance at stealth. He was furious with himself. He hadn't even managed to get through one day without someone figuring out who he was. With a huff, he sulked back to his room in defeat, collapsed face first into his bed and declared to his attentive robotic pet. "I hate people."


	5. If He Be Worthy... ('16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a truly Evil chapter, because I estimate it at ~20% chance that it'll ever get written. This blurb of a scene has been in my fan-fiction file since May 2012. We'll consider this an interest check, so comment if you'd ever want to read it.
> 
> What if Thor had dropped into Sunnydale? Mentor!Thor, Worthy!Xander, Xander/Loki, Crossover with Canon!MCU.... Two Lokis!... 'Good' Loki vs 'Evil' Loki
> 
> This scene isn't going to make much sense to anyone b/c it takes place about halfway through the fic and LOTS of plot has already happened.

" **Agent Romanov we have a problem.** "  
  
"What is it, sir."  
  
" **We're registering another match on the facial recognition software. Are you sure you have Loki secured.** "  
  
"As sure as we can be with a master magic user who loves using illusions. I saw him replicate a dozen of himself in Germany. By all reports he is limited by line of sight and can't fake consolidation though, sir."  
  
" **We DID have concerns that he was too easy to find, so I want you to check this doppleganger out and make sure we don't have any mistakes. We need Loki, not a convenient diversion. I'm sending you the coordinates now.** "  
  


* * *

  
Loki was on guard immediately when a flying vessel arrived over the tree line and trained oversized weaponry on himself and Xander's still vulnerable and unconscious form. He felt his temper rising quickly. He had just walked through Hel and given a part of himself to heal his companion and already these foolish mortals threatened it. He would never understand Thor's idiotic desire to be a protector and champion of these pathetic bugs. As far as he was concerned Xander was the only thing of worth ever produced by the race of mankind.  
  
The rear of the vehicle opened and Loki stood protectively between the two approaching threats and his still comatose bonded. He was weakened to near helplessness from the magical drain of fusing a part of himself to another or he would have shrouded them in a diversionary mirage already. As it was, he was limited to what throwing daggers he had in his possession. He had not the might of Thor, but as one raised on Asgard his skill in battle was not inconsiderable, and his still sharp mind was full of tricks.  
  
"Didn't we already do this once tonight? How many more of you are there? You’re like a cockroach… or a whack-a-mole." The armored man in garish red and gold raised his hands as his palms glowed with mechanical fire. Loki didn't know the strength of the weapons they carried and he loathed entering into combat without information on his foes weaknesses and abilities. He stood over Xander warily and raised his dagger, drawing the attention of the blue clad man.  
  
"Stark, he's got a hostage." The second, cloth armored man carried no visible offensive armament, wielding only a shield. It hinted at physical vulnerability but also warned that he might not feel the need for weapons because he himself was enough of a deterrent. Loki didn't like the way he was focused on Xander. He was far too like Thor, his helmet adorned with painted wings at the temple and armed with a singular defense. Loki had enough experience to know how much more dangerous a man who excelled in a single weapon was than one armed to the teeth with many weapons he was merely proficient with.  
  
"I know you've been out of the loop a little Cap Van Winkle, but I'm guessing that even in your time people in Iceland didn't dress in fancy scale armor, capes and more leather than a motorcycle gang. The way I see it, he's with the same Cirque de Passé troop as Loki." The God of Mischief felt his eyes narrow at the casual mention of his name. He was displeased with the fact that they knew of him and well enough to recognize him on first sight and possibly even enough that they had deliberately sought him out. They knew more of him than he did of them and he didn't appreciate that at all.  
  
"Serk-de-what?"  
   
"Cirque de Soleil. Fancy French circus group. Very elaborate costumes. Passé - to be dated, out of style, old fashioned. Much like yourself." Two references to time, the blue uniformed man was from another time. Loki tucked that tidbit away for future reflection. There was contention here that he could use if he needed to. These two were obviously familiar enough to needle at insecurities and if he were lucky their dissonance would prevent them from fighting as a cohesive team. In his experience individuals fell in battle, partners and teams rallied at the most inopportune moments.  
  
With a glare, the time-wanderer continued his situational analysis. "We can't know that he's with Loki voluntarily. The files said that he was trying to kill his own brother, that doesn't sound like a man who puts much stock in loyalty."  
  
"I am, however, a man who is present and will not be spoken around. Who are you and what do you want? How do you know of my conflict with Thor?"  
  
"Now you're not even trying. At least in Germany you didn't pretend that you didn't know who we were."  
  
"Ignorance is reprehensible to me and I have never played at it for risk it may become habit. However, it requires no pretending on my part to tell you that your arrogance precedes you. You have never before been of note to me and I have no interest in knowing you beyond the immediate reason of why you are here."  
  
"We're here for you." Straight and to the point. Loki was beginning to appreciate the simplistic straightforwardness of the blue clad man. He truly was akin to Thor and would be just as easy to manipulate if it became necessary.  
  
"And what is it, exactly, that I can do for you on this fine night?" Loki questioned with his best deflective smile. These were not men of subterfuge. He had no fear of their reprisals and was confident in his ability to talk them down without violence. There was a reason he was referred to as having a silvered-tongue.  
  
"Loki, by order of SHIELD, you are under arrest and are to be brought in for questioning."   
  
"I'm afraid that won't do you any good. I am not the man you are looking for. This is not my dimension and I had just set foot on your world for the first time mere hours before you appeared before me. Any crimes that have been done in my name were not my doing."  
  
"We've heard all about the nine realms and we know you got here through the Tesseract. Your lies won't change the fact that you are coming with us."  
  
"You seem determined to deny yourself the truth. I spoke not of the nine realms, but of an alternate universe where we have nine realms of our own. I have travelled the paths of a different Yggdrasil and come from a different Asgard. You spoke of meeting me earlier tonight. He, I suspect, is the Loki native to this reality. I am merely a visitor."  
  
"If that is true then you will be released with our apologies, but for now I am going to have to insist that you come with us."  
  
"I would know the names of my guards."  
  
"I'm Iron Man and he is known as the Star Spangled Man."  
  
"I am _KNOWN_ as Captain America."  
  
"Champion of a mere country on one of many worlds, you must be proud of your small accomplishment. When I am proven to have spoken the truth you will repay my cooperation with information about this variation of Midgard." Loki responded. It wasn't a question. He gently lifted Xander and turned to walk towards the now landed aircraft. The Captain had taken a step forward and looked to be ready to intercede. Loki's tone was cold and his eyes promised violence as he stepped away from the man. "You will not touch him or all deals are off and your end is assured."  
  
The man considered for a moment before stepping back in a show of acknowledgement. "Is he in need of medical aid?"  
  
"No." Loki brushed past both men as he made his way to the open door at the rear of the vehicle. He paused upon finding a startled mirror image of himself shackled within the vessel, but quickly cataloged his presence and moved on. There was a tense red-headed woman in the cockpit but though she was braced for an altercation he had no interest in her. He made himself comfortable on the bench opposite his double and carefully lay Xander down with his head cradled in the God's lap before he allowed himself to meet a pair of matching green eyes in a duel of mutual consideration. Thoughts and emotions of every type flickered across identical faces as they both settled into their common habit of scheming, both ignoring the pair of heroes watching them carefully for any false moves.  
  


* * *

  
When Xander awoke it was to long agile fingers carding gently through his hair. His head was lain across a pair of smooth leather pants warmed by the long legs under them. He revelled in the sensation for a long moment before realizing that not only could he feel, but he could also enjoy the sensation. It had worked. If he concentrated, he imagined he could feel Loki's power swirling through him  
  
-Xander asks how they found him and Loki and Tony tells him about the image recognition software.- "So, Big Brother and Uncle Sam are watching. Like Loki needs any more family drama."

* * *

"I'm liking this dimension already." Xander blatantly eyed up the chained Loki. "Who knew I had a thing for bondage."  
  
His Loki growled, the vibrations tingling through Xander's portion of his magic making him shiver in delight. "Oh, relax. You're still the only trickster god for me. Now shush, I'm busy ogling you and your fantastic hair."  
  
-Xander starts going on about how Loki should grow his hair out cuz it's hot and could be used to get a better grip during 'activities'. He decides that he can't call both Loki's Loki or it would get very confusing and since Loki tells him he will kill him if he attempts to call him by any endearment or pet name he instead nicknames Canon Loki, since he can feel his darkness and violence and he's likely to try and kill Xander anyways even without provocation. He names canon Loki, Tricky.-  
  
"Relax would you. What man has not had a dream about doing it with twins."  
  
"I don't have to dream about it. I've got memories." Tony piped up, not at all helpfully.   
  
"Aw, don't be jealous. If we were sitting here with another me, I wouldn't be." Loki snorted in disagreement. "You think you know all my secrets. You weren't my first step into the big gay sex, you know. Just over a year before Thor was exiled I was hit by a spell designed to weaken an opponent by splitting them into two beings, each with half the power. Kill one and the other followed as they were one person manifesting in two bodies. Well, one side of me got all the libido and the other had none of the inhibitions. Fun was had by all."  
  
"You had sex with yourself?" Captain America had a bug-eyed look on his face like someone had just grabbed him inappropriately.  
  
"I'd do me." Tony mused. "There might be a feedback issue with the reactors though. I should look into that. Never hurts to be prepared."  
  
-Xander is super excited about the sci-fi element of the Avengers-verse, armor and flying fortresses and alien armies from space-  
  
"You want to know who to trust?" Xander questioned. "Hand me Mjollnir."  
  
"No man can wield my hammer."  
  
"No man who is not worthy can wield Mjollnir. I know." Xander held his hand out patiently.   
  
Thor glanced at his hand and then put the hammer on the floor between them, handle up. "This craft would not survive the impact if you were to drop it. Try to lift it if you must."


	6. 'We Three Kings' - Blade:Trinity/Underworld ('16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I had a long bout of writer's block on this fic, but having recently watched Dominic Purcell in DC Legends of Tommorrow and Ryan Reynolds in Deadpool the muse has come back and I've completed my outline and started writing again.
> 
> Here's the first bit of the next chapter...

Hannibal would never admit it, but he was a little bit, tiny bit, miniscule really, disappointed that Drake had overestimated himself and died of the Daystar Virus. The blood demon talked a big game and Hannibal had almost bought into the dream of finding a real family in an emerging vampire utopia. Hey, it wasn’t even in the top 10 of his weirdest dreams for the future, he read too many comic books for that, it was just the most disappointing because for a moment, it had seemed plausible.

 

Every orphan dreams of family coming to take them away. Hannibal’s dreams just had pointier teeth than most.

 

Instead of being swept off to Never Never Land where he’d never have to grow up, when reality hit, Hannibal was left feeling old and without even the little bit of a life he’d scraped together with the Nightstalkers. Blade wandered off to who-the-fuck-knew-where to kill something or contemplate his navel or join a band, Hannibal didn’t particularly care. Ana, Hedges and Dex were all dead and Abby was quitting the life to try and take care of Zoe. He didn’t even consider trying to invite himself to that party. He may have attempted to insinuate himself into Abby and Ana’s little family, but with everything falling apart at the seams it was more obvious than ever that he’d only been on the outside, looking in at the trio. Story of his life; always the bridesmaid, never the bride. 

 

He gave Zoe a big hug and a kiss on the head, promised to always be her favorite Uncle Hannibal and made Abby promise to call if she needed anything. The tone of their goodbye made it pretty clear on both sides that neither of them thought it likely that she’d ever follow through on the promise. He wasn’t expecting to see either of them again and considering his quality of life, was glad of the fact. After her own shit childhood Abby would do everything in her power to make sure Zoe was happy and maybe she’d find a little slice of normal for herself along the way.

 

Falling back on his last option, Hannibal installed himself as a nuisance in Somerfield’s Daystar think-tank science buddy, Caldur’s lab. He spent his nights hunting down the messy remnants of House Talos and his days letting the man poke and prod at him, testing for effects of being ground zero for the Daystar release, looking for proof of Drake’s claims that he was born with super-vamp’s blood in his veins and trying to figure out how Somerfield had cured him. Basically, Caldur sucked more blood out of him in little vials than any vamp ever had.

 

The whole thing was a bit of a fog to be honest. Hannibal just kinda drifted aimlessly, the way he always did when everything fell apart around him and took vital parts of him with it. Freefalling through life and waiting for the inevitable moment when he either landed on his feet or finally found the end of the line. He should have been used to the aching burn of disappointed dreams by now. Life loved nothing more than kicking Hannibal when he was down. Which is why he greeted Caldur’s betrayal with a sick sense of bitter resignation rather than surprise when the man drugged him and had an unidentified team of burly foreign guys drag him into a shipping crate.

  
Chained to a chair in the dark and attached to an IV full of sedative, Hannibal wondered what the hell his life actually was, because he was pretty sure no one else in the history of the world had ever had to put up with this much absolute bullshit.


	7. 'Time is a Thief' - YJ/TT/BtVS ('16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to kill me, I swear. Rather than chronologically writing things I can post, I keep writing scenes that are YEARS in the future and will probably be written out/around by the time the story gets that far. 
> 
> Here's a glimpse of the future. (To clarify how far away this scene is... The current chapter I'm writing is May 2012 and this takes place March 2014)

##  **Jump City Science Museum**

###  **March 13, 2014 23:26 PST**

## 

X sat in the shadowy rafters of the Jump City Science Museum and surveyed the exhibition hall. According to his data, the guards would pass through from the East Wing in the next few minutes, but after they passed he would have a solid twenty until they looped around again. Plenty of time to liberate a few things carefully enough to avoid alarms. His objective sat directly beneath him. The Clock of Eternity was on loan from the British Museum and the 400 year old timepiece was easily the most expensive part of the interactive exhibit on timekeeping throughout human history. X wasn't much for antiques but he was bored and overdue for a confrontation with the Teen Titans. Not to mention that the clock would be worth a pretty penny to private collectors.

## 

The guards arrived right on time. Unfortunately someone arrived with them. Just as the regular patrol entered from the far side of the hall there was a flash of light and a gaping black portal opened on the ground floor, two stories beneath X’s rafter. A gold armored man stepped out and immediately drew the attention of the museum guards.

## 

"Hey! Stop!"

## 

"Stop yourselves." With a wave of his hand the unknown stranger froze the guards solid and approached the glass case. "I didn't journey back in time one hundred years to squabble. I came to steal. The Clock of Eternity, valuable in the past, priceless in the future."

## 

A well aimed birdarang flew down from the balcony, ricocheting off of his reaching hand and knocking the self-proclaimed time traveler backwards. "But for the present you'll keep your filthy hands off it."

## 

The Titans were just on time, it seemed that X's anonymous tip off to the JCPD had worked. The only flaw being that he was supposed to be the only thief that they encountered here tonight. He settled back to watch the action and analyze the new threat.

## 

"The Teen Titans. This  _ IS _ a treat. I've read all about you in the historical archives, and now,  _ you're all history _ !" Shoulder mounted lasers emerged from the man's armor and destroyed the balcony as the Titans scattered. The volley of blasts followed Robin's graceful flip to the ground floor and his bo staff was shattered as the kid was knocked back with a surprisingly precise shot. X had heard of shooting from the hip, but someone managing to effectively aim with their shoulders was new.

## 

As Beast Boy leapt for the thief in lion form, an hourglass shaped device emerged from the time criminal's wrist and quickly powered up with a chirp. Just before the mean, green, king of cats made contact his whole body contorted and seized in mid air as the wrist mounted taser electrocuted him.

## 

Raven sent magically reinforced cabinets at the man but he batted them out of the air as if they were nothing. He countered with a force beam from the blue gem set into the helmet of his armor, knocking Raven out of the sky.

## 

Cyborg took the opportunity to give the guy a facefull of sonic canon but when the smoke cleared a glowing blue dome of shielding electricity became visible. Cyborg didn't even have a chance to dodge as the man threw what looked like a fancy egg timer that stuck to the teen's chest plate and electrocuted him, draining his power cells.

## 

"You cannot defeat Warp. I am from the future." He threw an bladed disk at Robin and Starfire as they charged him. Robin attempted to counter with several detonation disks of his own but Warp's superior weapons cut through them with ridiculous ease, forcing the Titans to dive to safety to avoid the resultant explosions. "…and you relics are one hundred years out of date!"

## 

"They told me I was a fool. That I would damage history. With this, I will prove them wrong." Warp's hand phased right through the glass as he grabbed the Clock of Eternity.

## 

By X's estimation, he had revealed all of his tricks, each of the mounted weapons on his shoulders, helm and wrists was accounted for. All except the glowing white arc-reactor built into his chest. X grinned to himself. This wasn't a comic book or a Marvel movie and although he had the goatee, this man definitely wasn't Tony Stark. Hopefully, the device in Warp's chest wasn't something as devastating as an Unibeam, because with Warp's hands on the Clock he could reactivate the portal at any minute and X's prize would be lost. He'd have to take his chances.

## 

"You cannot damage history, for history cannot be changed, it has already been written. I came back in time to steal the Clock because history said that it disappeared and history said it disappeared because I came back and stole it. Past. Present. Future. Unchanging."

## 

**"Or did history declare it missing because I came to steal it for a private collector who will never let it near the public view again."** X dropped down next to Warp.  **"In that case, you're disproving your own theory by interfering."**

## 

"Who are you?" The blue shield flickered to life between them. "Nevermind. You weren't even important enough to be remembered by history."

## 

**"A nameless thief is one who was never caught. A famous thief is one behind bars."** X retorted as he shot x-lasers from his gloves that cut easily through the forcefield, causing it to sputter and die. He lunged for the Clock, but dodged at the last moment as Warp's taser charged arm swung out at him.

## 

He wasn't quite fast enough as the overpowered charge arced from Warp's gauntlet into his armor and blasted him back. He skidded across the floor with a groan.

## 

Warp activated the device on his chest and it created another time portal for his escape. "Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I have a very bright future ahead of me."

## 

X regained his feet just in time to see Robin make one last leap for the time villain, but Warp managed a glancing blow on the brave little hero with the same weapon that had frozen the guards. His left side froze solid and Robin lost control of his jump. X watched in horror as the immobilized boy wonder hurtled towards the open portal.

## 

He didn't set out to sacrifice himself, but as Robin's frozen body neared the open hole in reality, X acted instinctively. He quickly activated his suit's teleportation and shoved the boy wonder out of the way. He saw the surprised realization of his sacrifice in Robin's eyes and heard him cry out as X toppled backwards knocking himself and Warp into the open portal.

## 

" _RED X!_ "

\------------

##  **Time Void**

###  **XXXXX X, XXXX 00:00 PST**

###  **Time Unknown**

## 

The portal quickly disappeared behind them as they drifted away down the wormhole through time and space at an indeterminate speed. It was kinda pretty, like looking up the eye of a tornado, knowing that despite the lack of bodily harm you were inches from death. X was not an astrophysicist, but he’d watched enough science fiction to keep his hands and feet inside the tunnel at all times for his own safety. He had no idea what contact with the misty, light streaked walls of the tunnel would do to him. Images of himself aging instantly to dust or emerging as a helpless baby flashed through his mind.

## 

On the other hand, if he allowed Warp to reach his planned destination, then he would be 100 years late for his own lifetime and completely at the villain’s mercy. With Warp’s arrogant determinist view on the influence of time-travel to the past, he’d probably claim that the reason X wasn’t remembered by history is because he had disappeared just like the Clock of Eternity rather than just because X had never been caught. If he had to choose between his own skills or Warp’s interference being the reason that he apparently hadn’t been included in history books, he’d bet on himself every time.

## 

If Warp reached his future, he would probably deem the whole night a rousing success and refuse to return X to his proper time. Villains of the mad scientist subtype were like that. X would have to make sure that they were both in the same predicament. He had to make sure that either Warp didn't reach his destination or X had leverage before they arrived.

## 

Luckily, X recovered from their sudden time tumble before the villain and spun around to grab Warp’s suit before the man could react. He grappled with the man’s arms and clung too tight for him to properly aim his gauntlet and helmet weapons or discharge his tasers. An adhesive X effectively gummed the man's arms together behind him.

## 

With his arms blocked, Warp couldn't do much more than wriggle as X inspected the portal generator built into the chest plate inches from his face. If he had to be uncomfortably intimate with the man to keep Warp from frying him, at least people from the future believed in good hygiene.

## 

Upon closer inspection it became clear that Warp's weapons and devices were all mounted on the armor instead of built into it. Warp's suit had apparently been designed as containment to shield the man from whatever timey-wimey radiation soup they were currently floating through. Unfortunately, X's was only lightly insulated with protections specifically geared towards xenothium poisoning. He really hoped his insides weren't liquefying, that would be an unpleasant way to go. He ignited the laser cutter in his glove and ran his finger over the weld seam on the portal generator, neatly separating it from the armor as they weightlessly tumbled end over end through time. It was a shame X wasn't able to fully appreciate his first experience with zero-G.

## 

"Stop! If you damage the suit before we reach my future-" With a final flick of his wrist, the arc-reactor looking piece of Warp's time suit separated from the armor and came away in X's hand. "NOOOOooooooo….."

## 

The strobing lights around them became blinding and with a wrenching feeling, X was knocked unconscious.

* * *

-Timetravel adventure chapters go here before the next scene-

* * *

 

##  **Batcave**

###  **December 16, 2015 03:48 PST**

  
  


Of all the things Nightwing could have expected from Red X when he first met the assembled Batfamily, he really wasn't all that shocked that the thief's reaction managed to surprise him. In his own way X was as unpredictable as the Joker, but no where near as dangerous. X was a trickster. Always erratic and confusing, but he was mostly harmless so long as anything valuable was properly secured. It was a lot like dealing with Selina and he'd had years of practice getting used to her bizarre relationship with Bruce.

 

"You have a little baby bird!" X exclaimed in glee as he ignored the others and immediately focused on Tim, teleporting to his side and giving him a big bear hug before anyone could react, rubbing his cheek on the top of Tim’s head affectionately. "Who's the lucky lady bird?"

 

Babs giggled at the looks on both Dick and Tim’s faces, smirking when they both glared at her.

 

Tim squirmed, stomping on X's insole and jabbing at a few pressure points to get the overzealous thief off of him. He ducked around Babs and made sure to keep Bruce between them, even as X followed him, making grabby hands at the horrified young Robin.

 

"He's not actually mine." Dick drawled, watching with amusement as X chased his younger brother around. "You may have missed a few things, but I'm still not old enough to have a kid his age."

 

"Well, it's biologically impossible for a baby bat to sprout feathers, so the little fledgling must be yours. He does dress better though, your costume made you look like a stoplight. The red and black is very sleek and red breasted Robin. Who's ever heard of a green, yellow and red robin? You were more of a hummingbird, brightly colored and constantly flittering about without stopping."

 

Dick laughed, bringing X up short. Tim took the opportunity to put some distance between them.

 

"Did you just laugh? You? Mr. Super-serious-team-leader. Wow, you've loosened up. You used to be all beatdowns and growling reprimands about truth and justice and the law abiding way."

 

"You're not a threat."

 

"Aren't I? Inviting me into your inner sanctum to learn all your heroic little secrets. That's very dangerous."

 

"You made a deal with Batman that you wouldn't ever use what you learned against us."

 

"And you'd trust the word of a thief, just like that."

 

"I’d trust your word. In all the time I've known you, you've never lied. You're shameless enough to prefer being brutally honest about everything. You aren't a threat to us and I would even go so far as to say that you'll be a welcome addition to our team. You may get to like being a hero. You seem to have those pesky heroic tendencies that you can't seem to rid yourself of."

 

Red gasped like an offended schoolmarm whose student had just sworn in class. "You take that back. Heroism is for self-sacrificing chumps."

 

Tim and Babs both darted glances at Bruce, impressed with the thief’s courage to say something like that to one of the most dedicated heroes in the world.

 

"Says the thief who claims to care for nothing but himself and still jumped into an unstable time vortex to save me."

 

"That's completely different!" Red protested violently, sputtering at Dick's glowing assessment of his character.

 

"How about the time you gave up the Xenothium you needed to power the suit, just to help save Jump from Professor Chang's ray?"

 

Red X crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "There were extenuating circumstances."

 

"And helping Batman, GL and the future League prevent the total collapse of the time-space continuum? I suppose that was you being selfish."

 

"Absolutely. I live in time and space, it's where I've got all my stuff. I stole that stuff fair and square. I wasn't going to let Chronos reboot the universe. My previous save game data would have been lost."

 

Dick saw the tension leak out of Bruce and Tim as they bantered. Babs was outright grinning at X. This was good. He needed to establish Red's position as a useful but reluctant hero early to prevent the thief from convincing them that he was irredeemable. Red was not the lost cause he claimed to be, and Dick was determined to see him form ties with the family and the team. Red just needed more people who believed in him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can always visit me on [my Tumblr](https://monitorzombie.tumblr.com)


End file.
